My Choice
by lizzie.bananalovesRDJ
Summary: I have a choice. Give away my closest friends deepest secret or put him in grave danger. Eventual Holmes/Watson Reviews greatly appreciated. Chapter 4 up!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: My choice**

**Summary: I have a choice. Give away my closest friends deepest secret or put him in grave danger. Eventual Holmes/Watson**

Doctor Watson

221b Baker Street

London NW1 6XE

22nd September 1892

Doctor Watson,

Let's not forget everyone has their price. You of all people should know that. A price for life, death or information? The list is endless. How much would someone have to pay you to betray a loved one? Well I say someone but you know full well who I mean. Or maybe money doesn't do it for you. I can offer you a large house, husband or wife to do with as you please? No? Be it your partner, parents, siblings, husband, wife or even close friend. Could you put a price on their life? How much do they mean to you? Or would you never betray them? Even if by doing so you sacrificed your own life? Would it really be worth it? You can name your price? No? I thought as much. Alright, let's step it up. Choose between your partner or child? Too easy? Fine. Choose between your children. You can save one. Who do you choose? I know who id would pick. But this is irrelevant to you. Isn't it? You don't have children. You don't want children do you? But you have a brother don't you? Your parents may be gone but there's always that aunt of yours. I'm aware that you aren't close to them but could you really see them die. Right in front of you I'll make sure of that. Could you look into their eyes with them knowing that it's thanks to you that they're about to die? But that might not affect you. Let's face it only you know the inner workings of your mind.

So who are you close to? Hum? Who do you spend the majority of your time with? There's your fiancé, but we both know she's only there to keep up appearances. What about that flatmate of yours? You value him pretty highly don't you? You offered to sacrifice your own life in order to assure his safety. So. You value him more than your own life? So harming you or even taking your life would have no effect. Sure about that? Could you really stand looking down the barrel of a gun, knowing you're going to die? And it wouldn't be quick. Oh no, id prolong it for as long as possible. Ensure that you suffer. And I'd make him watch. Yes he'd be there to watch you die. Or maybe more. Can't say I'm attracted to you but to watch you suffer. To watch him suffer. That'd make it more than worth the minor hardship on my part. But maybe you could handle it. After all you are a soldier. You must be used to that sort of thing.

So I'd have to threaten him? Oh, don't like that, do you? So tell me what I want to know. Tell me what I want to know and I won't hurt him. I'll even sweeten the deal. Cash. 6 figures. Think what kind of a life you could make for yourself. And him. No? Well at least consider it? You have 48 hours. Leave me a note with your answer with your housekeeper. Ill assure it's picked up. You can go now. Back to lover boy. Oh and I'm sure you wouldn't be that stupid but don't leave the country. And keep your mouth shut. You know full well that I could outsmart Scotland Yard with my eyes shut and hands tied behind my back. But you wouldn't do that. Not only because you would never endanger **HIS **life, but also because you know full well it would be fruitless.

Well. Give me what I want and you and your little **friend **will be safe. Fail to do so and there will be consequences. I'll be watching you. Bye. Catch you later…

All that was yesterday less than 5 hours ago. Of course I knew full well what **they **were attempting to do. Physical pain isn't their style. Leaves to many scares. Anyone could see and many would ask questions. So what's the alternative? Cripple me emotionally. Or at least attempt to. Of course they failed. I've been trained for this. Can't say I enjoyed it but it didn't get to me as much as they intended. But the same can't be said for the treats. They hit the nail on the head. Threaten me. Fine. Go right ahead. But threaten **him** and provoke a reaction from me.

The way I see it I have 3 options. Give them what they want, take the money and go live in a big house with a swimming pool, knowing all along, I was the one who gave it away.

Two. Refuse to give it up and face the potential suffering of my dearest friend.

Three. Run as fast as I can go, catch the next train to Barbados, preferably, taking **Him** with me.

I have to say the worst thing about all of this is that I honestly have no idea who's doing this. It doesn't fit the pattern of anyone. No kidnapping not even a verbal threat. A letter. Oh and I know what you're thinking. I've read all the detective books too you know. I tried sending a reply, the address doesn't exist. I tried asking people if they've heard of the sender's style, or if they've received similar letters. No such luck.

All I can think is 43 hours to go. 43 hours to make a choice. I choice that will have massive consequences whichever way I look.

By the forty 2nd hour I had made my choice. A choice that no dought I will live to regret. I had a choice. Give away a secrate that will impact gravely on the life of my dearest friend, or endanger **his **life to a point where it would be a miracle for **him **to come out alive.

So I made that choice. And you know what? I stick by it. Many people including **him** may have chosen differently, but what was I to do? What would you do in a situation like the one I found myself in?

Yes I've given **his** deepest and what he considers most shameful thing, along with proof that would stand up in any court of law, to the one group of people that **he** would least want to know but they asked for** his** deepest secret and that's what they'll get. They won't expect what they get I can tell you that.

I only hope **he** can find it in **his** heart to forgive me. I don't find it shameful in the slightest.

So much so that I shall divulge **his** secret to you right now. Yes, this very moment.

Sherlock Holmes is in fact a woman.

**Authors note: So, should I continue? Ok so it's my first time writing for the Sherlock Holmes movie verse so please doesn't be too hard on me! Can I also say that if anyone spots any references to 21****st**** century life could you please let me know, as this story was originally going to go in the BBC "Sherlock" category. Reviews would be very much appreciated! – xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**My Choice- Chapter 2:**

**Previously: "So much so that I shall divulge his secrate to you right now. Yes, this very moment.**

**Sherlock Holmes is in fact a woman."**

I followed the instructions to the letter. Gave a note to MRS. Hudson to give to **them**, saying I would co-operate fully and the information would be theirs if they desire it. I asked for no privileges, no money, no nothing. All I asked in return is for a promise that they will not harm Holmes.

It all seemed too easy. One day a threatening letter, the next I offer to give away Holmes's most restricted information. Had I done the right thing?

The rational part of me exclaimed that by giving away this fact, I would save Holmes from a perfectly plausible death, and the worst thing I can do right now, is to rethink the situation.

However, try as I might, I am unable to silence that ghastly little voice in the back of my head, asking me how the fuck am I going to tell Holmes, and how will he react when I work up the courage to tell him?

Despite all of this, when three days later I received no reply from **them**; I began to think it had all been a joke. Yes a prank that's what it must have been. An evil joke but a joke all the same.

I lulled myself into a false sense of security. I was convinced that I did the right thing by not telling Holmes. No use worrying him I reasoned. He's got enough on his plate what with his new case on the go.

But then the inevitable happened. The letter arrived. The letter from **them**.

The letter demanding I divulge Holmes's secret. A fact they couldn't possibly know. An element of Holmes's known only to me and his brother, as far as I am aware.

By this time I have stopped hiding behind lies. It's time to tell Holmes. **He** needs, no deserves to know the truth.

An hour ago **he** returned to Baker Street. Since then I've seen nothing of him, as **he** remains shut up in his room.

Well. No use delaying the inevitable. Sighing, I pick up the letters, and climb down the stairs from my bedroom and walk towards Holmes's room.

I nock three times before Holmes even acknowledges my existence, **he or rather she**, gives me permission to enter the room.

It's rare that I see Holmes like this. Holmes as a woman.

Although she adorns trousers and a shirt, her face is clean of the costume make up she uses to conceal her feminine features and her hair, although reasonably short for convenience is let loose out of her wig, her short brown curls framing her face.

"Ah Watson" She says, hand automatically brushing her hair behind her ear as she speaks "How may I be of assistance to you?"

Now that she speaks, another difference from the Holmes I see in daylight is clear. Her voice is unmistakably feminine now that she has dropped the strong, confident male acsent she uses throughout the day.

"Well Holmes, I rather think you ought to see these. I received this one a few days ago" I say, handing the first letter to her.

She outstretches her arm and takes the letter from me. She brings the letter close to her eyes to study it more closely, then to her nose to smell its most peculiar sent, all of this before she reads the letter its self.

"Hum. Chalk around the edges suggesting this has been left on the desk of a man for quite some time. Therefore the sender is most probably a teacher or professor. The scent. Quite unmistakably a mixture of both smoke from a pipe and gunshot residue. So this man has a gun. Most intriguing. Now the letter itself. The handwriting is neat, well-spaced and quite readable. So an educated man wrote this. Now the words themselves. This man appears to know you well Watson, and since I assume you haven't a clue as the identity of the sender, he must have a fair amount of money behind him to successfully gather this information. I am lead to believe that the sender of this letter is a professor Watson. A professor who, although he tries well to hide it, knows me well. I know of only one professor with this quite exceptional degree of intellect. I would be willing to wager that this letter is from non-other than the consulting criminal himself." Says Holmes, as she pauses for both breath and effect before speaking again

"But that bears little importance Watson. No, what is of concern me are this man's words. "Kill your flatmate if you refuse to give up his secret" "Well I think it's fairly obvious that the flatmate is me. So, I think the obvious question my dear Watson is, have you divulged to him my secrate?"

Once Holmes had finished speaking, I wasted no time in beginning my tale, fearing if I waited for too long, she would begin speaking again.

"Holmes, if you wouldn't mind may I just clarify something. When you say consulting criminal am I right to assume that you are referring to Professor James Moriarty, you honestly think he would send me a letter effectively blackmailing me into giving up any dirt on you?" I ask

"Yes of course Moriarty. And as much as his reasoning puzzles me, I do think it is well in the mind-set of the professor to attempt to black male my associate and" she says a little more quietly "only friend."

"Allow me to continue my tale Holmes." I say, she nods, so I continue. "I am neither afraid nor ashamed to admit that I was terrified that should I not divulge your secret, something terrible would happen to you Sherlock. So, afraid for your safety, I sent a letter, via MRS. Hudson for some unknown associate of his to collect before you ask, stating that I would divulge your classified information, in return for your safety. Three days later, with the third day being today, I received a letter back, demanding I tell them what they want to know. I can only assume Holmes, that they were hoping for any dirt on you but I think you're well aware of what they were hoping to hear. I never replied to that letter, and I have it hear, with me for you to examine." I say, holding out the letter to her, which she takes and proceeds to examine it in a similar fashion to the first.

"Undoughtably from the same person. No new details that haven't been spotted on the previous letter. Well Watson, thank you for bringing this to my attention, I can't tell you how glad I am you understand the importance that my gender stays hidden. However, if by doing so I endanger not only my own but your life too then perhaps it is time I expand my list of people who know that the great Sherlock Holmes is but in fact a woman. Anyhow, Watson, I shall ponder this matter over a cup of tea should you be so kind as to ask MRS. Hudson to make me one. I can assure you, I will figure out the best way out of this mess by tomorrow morning. Now, if you would be so kind as to pass me my pipe and a match, I will need to be left alone for 50 minutes. This is quite a 3 pipe problem.

**Authors note: Once again, thank you for reading! Now, I'm not going to beg for reviews but I would be really grateful if you could spare the time to quickly review? It really encourages me to write more, and I can promise fast updates. – xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**My Choice Chapter 3.**

**Previously: "Now, if you would be so kind as to pass me my pipe, I will need to be left alone for at least fifty minuets, this is quite a 3 pipe problem"**

Holmes was true to her word and didn't emerge from her room until the next morning, not that that was particularly unusual for her. However, unusually, I heard no sound, no explosions no yelps no nothing. This mildly concerned me for a while, until I came to the conclusion that she must be busy doing something quiet, much to my relief.

After a while of staring at my note book, attempting to write up Holmes's and my self's most recent case, "the red headed league" I finally give up and throw my fountain pen onto the table, watching as the blue ink spilled onto the table. Groaning in frustration I grab the nearest thing to me that looks reasonably like a cloth and wipe up the ink. Seeing the ink isn't going to budge I throw it down and storm of to my bedroom. I stopped only to pick up the duplicates I had drawn out of the letters I received, Holmes isn't the only one who's capable of mild detective work, and who knows what I might find. I climb the stairs to my room, stopping to shut the door, realising only 3 minutes later how pointless that was, as only Holmes and myself are in the flat. I planned to scrutinise the letters, I was so determined that I would find a solution to the problem in which I have handed both Holmes and myself in, that I failed to notice my own tiredness, and passed out onto my bed, fully clothed only seconds after I first sat down.

The next morning came far too quickly for my liking, Holmes peered into my room at 9 O'clock no longer the female I remembered from last night, but Sherlock Holmes, the male consulting detective once again.

"Watson, wake up at once" She called "Your fiancé is in the sitting room, something about dinner which you failed to attend last night" As I nodded to Holmes and asked him to apologize to Mary on my behalf and assure her I would be downstairs within 5 minutes, I couldn't help but re-play Holmes's last sentence in my head and note how he said the word "fiancé" with a little more spite that was needed, no matter how much he dislikes her. Deciding it was most probably due to Holmes's apparent hatred of my wife to be, I dismissed it and set to work dressing and making myself presentable.

It was strange. I knew I fell asleep fully clothed, I remember being too tired to even remove my shoes, and yet when I awoke I somehow found myself in just my boxers. Most peculiar.

Knowing that now is definitely not the time for this, what with Mary downstairs and more importantly Holmes with her, I throw on my clothes, wash my face with a damp cloth, run a comb through my hair and dash downstairs.

I stop moments before I reach the door to the sitting room, in order to compose myself then walk in calmly and over to Mary.

"Mary darling. What a pleasant surprise." I say to her bending slightly to kiss her cheek, which she somewhat coldly accepts.

"John, I'm terribly sorry to bother you and MR. Holmes so early but I was so awfully worried when you didn't show to collect me last night, I thought something frightful had happened!" She cries, and I cannot fail to notice the tears begin to well in her eyes. This is the one thing that annoys me about Mary. She simply cannot keep her emotions in check. Mind you, that's not exactly unusual for ladies of this time.

"I'm so very Sorry Mary, I did not mean to worry you, and I apologize for not having dinner with you last night, something cropped up with Holmes and I simply had to stay with him, you know how he can be"

"Oh John, I understand that you feel a duty to him as your friend, but you will soon be a married man, and you cannot spend all your time with him. People talk as I'm sure you are aware, it's seen as strange that you and he live together never mind you neglecting your fiancé for him. Please understand John you will warrant a name for yourself should you not be careful!" She cries

"Don't be absurd Mary, Holmes and myself's relationship and nothing" then I say with a blush "more".

"John you know I could never accuse you of such a terrible crime, I am simply telling you what people begin to think" She says, sniffing delicately into a white hancichef she somehow produced from her vast dress.

"I'm sorry Mary, I was to blunt just then, I know you would never accuse me of something such as that, I simply didn't get enough rest last night and now I am in a grouchy mood. I did not mean to take it out on you darling." I say, hating myself for saying it, as I know full well what she is implying in the most delicate and lady like way possible.

Yet at the same time I can barely stifle a laugh at the pure hilarity of the situation. Even if Holmes and I were in a "relationship" of some kind, it would be perfectly legal in the eyes of the law, not that of course, Mary knows this.

"That's quite alright John, I understand that you are under a lot of pressure at the moment, what with your surgery and everthing." She replies sweetly.

I know that only one thing will finish this conversation now, and I desperately need her out of the flat so I can discuss the letters.

"Mary, since we didn't have dinner last night, allow me to take you out to dinner tonight? I know a fabulous restaurant only 2o minutes away from your home. I do believe it has just opened its doors for the first time. "Noritartay" I believe its name is. Could I collect you at say 7?"

Her pretty face lights up at the idea and she immediately responds with "I would love that John, the restaurant sounds divine. Thank you. Now, I really must be going, I promised my brother I would take care of his children while his wife is visiting her mother."

And with that she picks up her umbrella from the coat stand and motions to leave but not before calling "Good bye MR. Holmes" to which Holmes responds with. "Farewell Miss Morstan."

Before she can even mention Mary's visit, I speak fist by saying "Join me for breakfast Holmes?"

"No thank you Watson, but by all means you eat. You will know dought be pleased to know that I have thought of the best way to deal with the letters you received, I will tell you as you eat. But you must be quick; it is of vital importance that all the elements of my plan are completed by 6 O'clock tonight.

"So" I inquire "What's your genius plan?"

"Simple" He answers "Tell Moriarty that im a woman."

Just as Holmes said that fatal sequence I heard, so im sure she heard it too, a slight feminine sneeze, muffled but unmistakable coming from just outside the door.

"Shit" Was Holmes's only response.

**Authors note: Hello people! Hope you enjoyed. Right. Down to the serious stuff. I've decided that due to this story's lack of any kind of feedback I am not going to post another chapter innless I get at least one review. So yeah. If you've enjoyed this story and would like to see another chapter, some feedback please? Thanks. Xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**My Choice - Chapter 4.**

**Authors' note: Hey readers, I am so sorry for the ridiculously long wait between chapters, I've been soo busy recently. A million thanks to all those who have reviewed and added me to their fave author/ story btw. I will try to make updates more regular now. So I'm going to stoop to the level of those people who ask for a certain number of reviews (Sorry). Ok so if I get 2 more reviews, the next chapter will be posted on or before Christmas day. Thank you! Oh and this story is un-beta read so sorry for any mistakes :) **

**Previously: Holmes told Watson that she is going to tell Moriarty that the great Sherlock Holmes is infact a woman. But a femine sneeze is heard from outside the door…**

'Holmes, did you hear something?' I ask

'What a pointless inquiry Watson. In future I ask that you save the precious oxygen that surrounds us for more meaningful questions. You heard the sneeze that was inarguably a woman's, therefore I too heard it.' She answers.

'Miss!' She calls out 'As I'm sure you are now aware, both my friend and I can hear you outside the door. Please, come inside and grace Doctor Watson and I with your presence.'

Holmes then turns away from the door, and places her hands together, and thumbs under her chin. For a purpose that I can only assume is to make herself look impressive when she correctly identifies our 'mystery' woman.

The door is then opened and a female presence enters the room. She is clad in a blue dress with her hair pilled artfully on top of her head in some sort of elaborate up-do.

Without turning around, or the lady in question uttering a word, Holmes says 'Ah Miss Adler. What a pleasant surprise.'

'Sherlock, and Doctor Watson. Pleasure.' Says Adler.

'Miss Adler. We weren't expecting you. How way we be of assistance?' I she will want something. Social calls are not Irene Adler's style.

'Oh I'm just passing Doctor. But I happened to pass your fiancé on the stairs. She seemed shocked and a little upset. Care to share Doctor? Or Sherlock, as I presume what ever happened was your doing?'

'Oh she's just being emotional. The dear Doctor missed a dinner date with Miss Morstan and predictably she was rather upset. But anyhow Irene, you never arrive without a specific purpose (See! I'm not the only one who noticed). What is it?' Inquires Sherlock curiously, as she subtly pushes over a photo of Adler on her desk. Which if you think about it, doesn't make nearly so much scence now that Sherlock's gender has been revealed.

'No, no specific reason Sherlock. I have just returned from America. Thought I'd pop in. I've bought you some olives. Your faverout' she says presenting Holmes with a bag of what are apparently olives. 'And to say hello to Doctor Watson and yourself.'

'You heard Watson and I speaking when you were outside the door didn't you?' Inquires Holmes, rather unnecessarily, since she already knows the answer. Hell even I know the answer.

'Yes,' she gloats 'Finally Sherlock, I learn something new about you.'

'You have questions' Sherlock states. It's not even a question. Just a fact.

'Indeed' she admits 'for one, why keep your gender a secret? I know that females aren't at the top of the pecking order this century, but I hardly see a reason to pretend to be a man.'

Which is actually quite a good question. True I have my own thesis, but they have yet to be proven.

'Ah Irene. So naïve for one so devious. Isn't it obvious? As you yourself are a female Adler, I'm sure that you have experienced discrimination due to your sex. As an adolescent, I wished to be a consulting detective or police officer. But my parents and governess shot down my dreams, in favour of my becoming a house wife or another boring and pointless occupation. For a while I considered joining a woman's rights movement, but my father would never have allowed it, and besides, those women hardly get the warmest of receptions. So I turned my attention to my brother, Mycroft. I saw that he had both the opportunity and resources to do as he pleased, yet I did not, despite our equal intellect, because I am a woman. I found this highly unfair. So the solution was simple. The moment I turned off an age that I thought I should be considered responsible, I solved a case for the police. Yet they refused to acknowledge my findings for the reasons I have already stated. The next day I dressed as a man, solved another difficult case and gained the credit I deserved. I have been male ever since. Now Irene. Only Watson and my brother are aware of this. I trust I can rely on your discretion? Asks Holmes, after taking a huge gulp of air after the huge speech she had given.

'Sherlock of course. What you did is hardly something I haven't contemplated.' Says Adler.

'Yes quite. I don't dought it Irene. Though I deduce that your gender may have come in handy, especially with your dealings with the professor?' Asks Holmes.

Alright. I admit it im a little lost. I think I know what professor they're talking about but I can't be 100% sure.

'Professor Moriarty?' I ask to clarify.

'Of course.' They both say in synchronisation. 'What other professor who had dealings with Irene Adler would I be talking about? Holmes asks scornfully.

'Yes why didn't I consider that? I ask sarcastically.

'Because you're an idiot.' States homes matter of factly. 'Oh don't look at me like that, practically everyone is. But you are in the top 5% of the most intelligent of them.'

Right as if that's some kind of complement. But I know Holmes well enough to know that if I go on about this the conversation will never end. Deep breaths John. Move along.

'Anyhow Holmes, shouldn't we be discussing the Moriarty issue?' I inquire

'What's to discuss?' Asks Holmes. 'I was under the impression that we had solved the issue. Simply give a letter to Mrs Hudson for one of Moriarty's cronies to pick up saying I agree to his terms.'

'Holmes are you sure? Moriarty's going to want to do something with this information. Your career as a detective…'

'Consulting detective.' Interrupts Holmes.

'Yes alright, consulting detective. Anyhow, your career will be more or less over. Are you sure you want to risk it?' I ask.

'Watson. Moriarty has threatened to kill us. It would be irresponsible of me to value our lives below my career. Anyway, if you would be so good as to write and hand over the letter, you should probably be leaving for work dear doctor.' Holmes says.

Is he alright? No obvious illness. He's not sweating so no fever. Not completely manic and irresponsible so not cocaine. Then what?

'Since when did you care about my career Holmes?' I ask surprised.

'Since… 20 seconds ago.' Says Holmes after consulting his pocket watch. 'Unless I come up with an alternative, and fast, the public will soon no dought be aware of my secret. I deduce that this may conclude with me experiencing a certain difficulty finding work, especially among judgemental men. Taking into account my un-willingness to except charity from my brother, I fear I shall be short of money for a month or two. Therefore I think it may come in handy for at least one of us, i.e. you, to have an active income.' She concludes.

I'm impressed. That's actually good reasoning, especially for Holmes. What's his ulterior motive?

I pick up a piece of paper, fetch my fountain pen and scrawl on the paper.

'Professor James Moriarty,

I have spoken to Sherlock Holmes and he has reluctantly agreed to your demands. Let us know when and where you wish to meet. We await your response.

Yours,

Doctor Watson.

I then fold the paper, slip it into an envelope, seal the envelope and write on it:

'Confidential. For the eyes of the Professor only.'

'Right, I'm off to work. I will drop the letter of with Mrs Hudson on my way. Goodbye Miss Adler. And Holmes, don't fail to contact me if any developments arise.' I say as I slip on my jacket and over-coat, and grab my cane and medical bag.

'Goodbye doctor.' Says Adler.

'So long Watson'

I nod in their directions and walk out of the door, closing the door softly behind them.

Holmes's POV:

'You have a plan right?' Asks Irene.

'Of course.' I reply.

'Way to get rid of the doctor Sherlock. May I ask why?' Irene inquires.

'Oh he has arranged dinner with his fiancé tonight. He missed it last night so he simply cannot miss it again. I cannot abide it when she comes to Baker Street and whines about how her perspective husband cannot love her if he refuses to spend time with her. When it is absolutely obvious that he only puts up with her for appearances sake.' I reply, with perhaps a tad more spite than was needed.

'Huh. Still wish Watson were your lover I see' laughs Irene.

'Irene! How can you think that? We're roommates and nothing more.' I insist.

'Yeah sure. Because it's so normal for an unmarried man and woman to be sharing a home together.' She says smugly

Oh goodness she's right. If news of my gender comes out a scandal shall be created about Watson and I living together. We'd have to be married or at least engaged for it to be socially acceptable. Now there's an idea. Married to Watson… No! Sherlock he's engaged! So I have to convince people (namely John and Irene) That I am not in love with Watson. And there's the small matter of the secret that if comes out will destroy me. Today is really not my day.

**TBC?**


End file.
